Conjure Me
by Little Miss Molly
Summary: OneShot Yami MalikxIsis How I believe Yami Malik and Isis' conversation on the blimp should have gone.


**Title:** Conjure Me  
**Author:** Baka Neko Mickey-chan  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, the song "Conjure Me" is property of The Afghan Whigs, a band which I know next to nothing about. o0  
**Summary:** How I believe Yami Malik and Isis' conversation on the blimp should have gone.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Notes:**  
Wow, what a way to make my fanfiction debut in the YGO fandom - a Yami no Malik x Isis fic. The first of it's kind, I believe. oO Yes, that IS what YMxI stands for. Also known as Yami Marik x Ishizu, Fearshipping - ...ahem, anywhoozle. Dun like, dun read. Simple dimple.

**Edit 5/2 – Because FFn is a bunch of fucktards, the song lyrics have been removed from this fic. I hope they're happy about taking away yet another aspect of creativity in writing.**

* * *

The hell of the Virtual World had come to an end. However, another hell that had broken loose was still running rampant on this Earth, one that Isis Ishtahl felt the full burn, closer to her heart then most. 

She sat in her room, gazing through the small circular window at the approaching island, the looming tower in the distance seeming like a silent promise of doom. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, her eye fluttering closed momentarily.

'_Malik..._'

As if on-cue, a dark chuckle intruded upon her thoughts. A familiar voice, one scarred into Isis' memory for all eternity now. One sound she would have been utterly thankful never to hear again. She turned her body to behold the tall, looming figure standing in her doorway, her face an impassive mask.

"You." He grinned, that insane grin only he could master.

"Me." He shifted his posture, resting his weight on the opposite foot. "I've come to get some information from you regarding Rishid. What have you done with him?" She stood, to better face him, careful to maintain her icy expression. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she met his pupiless gaze.

"I have done nothing."

He snorted. "You know I can see right through you."

"It's true."

"Rishid can destroy me, so you're protecting him." Isis' face hardened.

"Even if I was, you are the last person I would tell." At her words, that deranged grin on his face widened.

"Oh?" He lifted an arm, bringing into view what looked like a miniature gold staff, topped with a winged sphere, emblazoned with the eye of Horus. The Millennium Rod. "Would you like to reconsider those words?" He crossed the room in only a few of his long strides, so he now stood mere inches in front of her. Still he grinned like a madman. A lump formed in Isis' throat. She would _not_ be intimidated.

But she was. And they both knew it.

"Now, don't tell me you were foolish enough to discard the one thing that could protect you from me?" His warm breath washed over her face, and Isis' flinched involuntarily. He was close. Too close for comfort. "Without your Tauk, you're _helpless_."

"I-" Her words died in her throat as one of his muscular arms - the one that clutched the Millennium Rod - slid between her back and the wall, dragging her away from the smooth surface, pressing her small body snugly against his. He craned his neck, brushing his lips lightly against her own, speaking against them.

"Is that _fear_ I see in your eyes?" He licked his lips - and, in doing so, her own - his free hand settling on her shoulder. "I say, I rather _like_ this side of you." She opened her mouth, trying to speak, to tell him to get out, but the words wouldn't come. Her breath had been stolen from her. He moved his head forward, closing the miniscule distance between their mouths, his lips smothering her own. And Isis felt her mind go blank.

This shouldn't be happening. Isis knew she should be fighting him, struggling, pushing away. But instead her fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, craving more contact, more of _him_. Her mind had gone blank, she couldn't think, she couldn't move, she couldn't _breathe_.

His tongue forced past her lips, gaining entrance to her mouth, sweeping along every contour, every crevice, curling around her own tongue, coaxing her out into an eager battle. His hand, rested on her shoulder, abandoned its post, sliding roughly down her side, her skin turning to fire wherever he touched her.

He broke the kiss, allowing the air to rush into her lungs, but he wasn't finished. His scalding mouth moved across her face, his panting deliberately heavy, dragging his hot tongue along her jaw, catching the soft skin of her earlobe in his teeth. Unbidden, a moan tore from her throat, and his chuckle came directly in her ear.

"Now then." He purred, sending shivers down her back, drumming his fingers idly on her hip. "I have a tournament to win." He gave her earlobe another rough nip. "I will deal with you some other time. Once I win this tournament, I'm coming back to finish our conversation, Isis. So, if I were you," His arm, hooked around her waist, shifted, and a moment later Isis felt the cold chill of the Rod's metal wings trace down the length of her spine. "I wouldn't get too comfortable." Then the contact was gone, he was moving, pulling away, smirking down at her stunned form.

He was leaving? The long dark cape fluttered around his form as he turned sharply on his heel, striding to the door. He was nearly out, almost gone, when he paused, turning his head to look over his shoulder. Again their eyes met, and to her horror, revulsion, shock, Isis didn't want him to leave. She wanted him back before her, his body still pressed so intimately against her own, his lips caressing hers, trapped in his poisonous embrace –

"It's been lovely chatting with you, dear sister." He chuckled, blank purple eyes roving over her disheveled figure. "And I must say, I'm looking forward to spending much more time with you in the near future." That said, he continued with his exit, vanishing into the hall.

Isis watched him go, her heart beating wildly in the hollow of her throat. Lightly, she touched her fingertips to her lips, still swollen from his assault, eyes widening with the realization. She had been kissed. By a being that, for all technical reasons, was her brother. A creature of anger, greed, lust, revenge. And yet...somehow, she couldn't feel the anger that she so believed should be boiling within her now.

She feared him.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

He wanted her.

Her sapphire eyes flitted upward, gazing at the spot where, only moments before, he had stood.

"Good day."


End file.
